


to see you is to open my eyes for the first time

by white_oleander



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 1930s, Alternate Universe - Historical, First Meetings, London, M/M, Secret Underground Gay Club, Side Ships Implied, dance hall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-01-06 07:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_oleander/pseuds/white_oleander
Summary: This was a mistake. Coming here was a mistake. Following this man was a mistake. Mark was going to get himself arrested and become nothing more than a smear on his family’s noble name. Every step he took added another stone on top of the wall of dread building in his stomach.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever work of fanfiction. I also haven't written for my own enjoyment in many years, so I'm probably rusty. With that said, any constructive feedback is more than welcome! Writing has always been a medium that helps me deal with my emotions and I've been going through some tough times lately so I decided to try my hand at it again. 
> 
> This idea came to me because I recently learned about the history of underground gay clubs then shortly thereafter watched the Downton Abbey movie. All I could think of afterwards was markhyuck lol If you don't know about these places, look up molly houses and the history of queer spaces in London! There were definitely underground queer spaces in other cities/countries but I only learned about the ones in London, and I only touch on some aspects of them here. This is mostly self-indulgent, to be very honest. I just couldn't get the idea out of my head. 
> 
> The second part is mostly written and should be posted soon. I just wanted to get something out there before I chickened out and this way, I'll at least have an incentive to finish the story.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

This was a mistake. Coming here was a mistake. Following this man was a mistake. Mark was going to get himself arrested and become more than a smear on his family’s noble name. Every step he took added another stone on top of the wall of dread building in his stomach.

As Mark followed the stranger through winding alleyways that became progressively tighter and tighter, darker and darker, he reflected on the events that led him here. What started as an ordinary, if not frankly mundane, Saturday evening at the men’s club had become decidedly more interesting when a new face had approached him. The man was certainly handsome; he walked with an air of belonging that Mark envied and a grin that spoke to his confident character.

He’d walked right up to Mark, introduced himself, and conversation had flowed easily between the two thereafter. The man, Jaemin, was charming and friendly, if not a bit cheeky. Between his laid-back presence and the whiskey in Mark’s hand, it hadn’t been long before Mark felt comfortable speaking with him in a way he normally didn’t with other (more pompous) members of the club. Or anyone, frankly.

Which is why, when he’d suggested taking Mark to a different, more exclusive, club for men “like us”, he hadn’t been as reticent as he probably should have been. However cold and damp it was, however dangerous it seemed, he couldn’t help but follow along. It was as if a string was tied around his heart, flowing out of his chest and tugging him along, beckoning him to a place where he might be free for a night. It was silly, he thought, to blindly follow the hope Jaemin’s words sparked in him, to trust that this man, noble though he might be, would not lead him to his ruin. Or worse, to his death.

Just when Mark began to reach out to tug at Jaemin’s sleeve, began to open his mouth to tell Jaemin that he had changed his mind, that Jaemin must have misunderstood the kind of man he was, Jaemin stopped.

“We’re here,” he said with a grin.

Mark took in his surroundings. He was standing in a dark alley. It was quiet, and though he couldn’t see into the many shadows around him, he reckoned that they were alone. The two men hadn’t walked very far from St. James Street, and Mark guessed they might’ve been near Covent Garden. In front of him was a small, nondescript door. Barely distinguishable from the stone wall around it.

The thread of hope that had initially strung him along was now winding and tightening around his chest painfully as he started to worry about what he had gotten himself into. Jaemin turned and studied him with surprisingly perceptive eyes. “Relax, Lord Mark. You’re safe here. No one knows about this place except for its patrons, and the identities of those patrons never leaves these walls. We protect each other.”

Mark remained a little hesitant. He might’ve been concerned at the speed at which he trusted Jaemin, but he couldn’t help it. He suspected that Jaemin had that effect on many. Still, a part of him berated him for trusting a stranger so willingly, for ignoring his upbringing and putting his status at risk by following him.

Jaemin must’ve noticed his hesitation, for he reached out and grabbed Mark’s hand. “You’re safe. I promise you.” He squeezed his hand. “Please. You can trust me. I know what it’s like living as we do, expectations and duties piling higher on our shoulders with each passing day. You can leave all that at the door, here. You can finally breathe and be yourself. I knew from the moment I saw you, Mark. I knew we were alike. That’s why I had to talk to you, had to show you this place. You’ll see for yourself once we go inside. You’ve trusted me up to here, please trust me for a few steps more.”

His eyes shone with sincerity and his words were spoken with an earnestness that shook Mark’s resolve to leave. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath, then opened them to look straight into Jaemin’s intense gaze. “All right. I’ll trust you tonight. I'll trust you won’t let me down. Let’s go in.” Jaemin’s mouth stretched into a large grin in return.

He quickly turned on his heels and all but dragged Mark through the narrow door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, life has a way of getting at you when you're down so I wasn't able to finish this story and post it soon after the first chapter like I had intended to. However, I am determined to finish this story, especially now that winter break is upon us. There may be one or two more chapters at most, depending on how much I find myself writing. I do hope to finish it before I go back to uni; I have other ideas I'm hoping to write and share over the next few months so that is as much incentive as anything to finish. 
> 
> Thank you also to all of you who have taken the time out of your day to read this fic, leave a kudos, and comment. It has meant a lot to me and motivated me to keep writing. I've been thinking of this fic and your support all this time. It's meant a lot to me and I sincerely thank you.

Inside was a bare hallway, unadorned and barely illuminated by a small lamp hanging in a corner near the door. Mark barely had enough time to take in his surroundings before he was ushered through another door at the end of the hallway, and down a flight of stairs.

At the bottom of the stairway, surprise of all surprises, another door. This time, however, Mark could make out sounds escaping through the door. Music, voices, laughter. His heart began to speed up. In fear, in anticipation, or perhaps both, he couldn’t tell. He could barely hear the noises escaping through the door above the beating of his own heart. Yet, when Jaemin turned to him one final time before opening the final door, he couldn’t help but give him a small grin. He _was_ curious, despite himself.

The door opened and Mark was hit with sounds and colours all at once. His eyes didn’t know where to look. It was a hall, decently sized. In the back corner, a small quartet band played tunes. There was a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the hall and it was filled with men. _Only_ men. Mark blinked a few times to make sure his eyes were not deceiving him. No, sure as the sky was blue, his eyes had correctly perceived the scene playing out in front of him. Men were dancing _with each other_. Some men danced the woman’s role with their partner, while others simply clung to their partner. Others simply danced the way they pleased with no regard to proper steps. Regardless, they all looked happy. Their smiles and laughs could be felt from where Mark stood at the door.

Chancing a glance around the hall, he noticed a mismatch of tables and chairs placed near the perimeters of the dance floor, as well as sofas placed behind pillars near the walls to give a semblance of privacy. No matter where he looked however, he only saw men. Men dancing together, men laughing, men holding each other. He blushed and averted his eyes when he noticed two men, one very short and thin, the other tall and muscular, kissing each other against a pillar.

Jaemin seemed to notice his wonder and gave him a moment to take in the hall. When his eyes found Jaemin’s again, he found the other man smiling at him fondly. “I was just as amazed as you when I was first introduced to this place.”

Before Mark could reply, a voice spoke up from his right: “Yeah, and now you’re the pest we can’t get rid of!”

Jaemin threw his head back and laughed loudly as Mark turned around to find a short man with playful eyes standing behind a counter he had failed to notice.

“My patronage keeps this place afloat, Ten! Without me, you’d have gone under years ago!”

The man, Ten, crossed his arms across his chest but his smile belied any annoyance he claimed. His sharp gaze turned to Mark, assessing him. “Who’s this?”

Jaemin turned to Mark: “Ten, I present you Mark, a friend. Mark, this is Ten, one of the owners of Zanie’s Place, and a perpetual pain in my ass.”

“Oh, you’ve got plenty up there already, there’s no way I would fit.”

Mark gaped. He’d never heard anyone allude to male-male sexual activity, let alone with such insouciance.

“Now, now, Ten. Be nicer to me. I’ve brought a guest and we wouldn’t want to scare him off on his first night of freedom.”

Ten had been looking as though he was ready to throw back a sharp retort but his eyes softened at Jaemin’s last words.

“Well, I hope you know what you’re doing by bringing him here, Jaemin.” His gaze was loaded. “I hope you find the freedom you’re seeking here, Mark.”

“Thank you, Ten. I hope so too.”

Before Mark had a chance to say anything else, he found himself being led further into the hall by Jaemin. He had many questions for the other man, but his curiosity and wonder at his new surroundings didn’t give him a chance to speak. He took in as much as he could, overwhelmed as he was at what he was witnessing. Questions could be asked later, he told himself. Now was the time to immerse himself in the experience this place had to offer. And there was so much to be seen. He’d never witnessed men be so free with their affections, let alone with other men. Never thought it was possible. He’d always understood himself to be an anomaly, an outlier. A creature made wrong. He’d accepted that fact a long time ago. However, this place flew in the face of everything he had previously believed. It was a shock to not only find out that these things were possible, but to see them for himself firsthand. More than that, to know that he could do the same, that he would not be judged… It was almost dizzying to realize. His worldview was fracturing, shattering, all in the span of a few minutes, and yet, no one was privy to the annihilation taking place in his head. Music continued to play, men continued to dance, the Earth continued to spin… Mark’s world was being rebuilt.

Amidst his racing thoughts, his attention was drawn to the corner where the band had started playing a slower tune. The dancing had begun to slow down, the feverish atmosphere from earlier replaced by an intimate feeling. Partners came indecently close to each other, hands placed intimately around each other, and began to sway. And there, standing in front of the band, a beacon. No, a man. A man not too far from himself in age, it appeared.

He was resplendent. Mark eyes were attracted to him like a moth to a flame. They took in every detail. From his proud stance, his charismatic aura, to his tawny skin, high cheekbones and sharp jawline, all the way down to his long legs that were encased in dark, perfectly fitted trousers.

That’s when the man opened his mouth and the smoothest voice Mark had ever heard came flowing out. His voice was dulcet, its sweetness like a balm to a heart that hadn’t known it was in need of healing until this very moment. He couldn’t look away even if he tried.

“Ah, I see you’ve noticed our Donghyuck. Pretty, isn’t he?” Jaemin’s voice shook Mark out of his reverie, but not fully. His eyes would not stray from the man. _Donghyuck_, his mind supplied.

“Do you know him well?”

Jaemin laughed. “I don’t know him intimately, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s a friend. In fact, I can introduce you, if you’d like, once his set is over. He won’t be long; he only ever sings a few songs a night.” Mark flushed, embarrassed that his thoughts had been surmised so successfully.

“No, that’s all right! Really-”

“Nonsense, Mark,” Jaemin cut him off. “You can be yourself, remember? If you want to talk to a beautiful boy, you can do so without shame.”

Mark didn’t know what to say to that, momentarily overwhelmed. He was overcome by Jaemin’s empathy but simultaneously tugged in the other direction by the fear that remained in the back of his mind. Despite everything he had experienced up until now, that fear told him to _deny, deny, deny_ to his last breath, to run away and forget that he had ever considered answering the siren call of another man. So, he said nothing at all and maintained his gaze on the singer.

It was then that Donghyuck opened his eyes and his gaze fell on Mark.


End file.
